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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24208990">Closer Every Time</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/KellyJade/pseuds/KellyJade'>KellyJade</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Killing Eve (TV 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:00:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,960</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24208990</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/KellyJade/pseuds/KellyJade</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Eve enlists Villanelle's help for work.</p>
<p>Villanelle, true to form, is a both an unbelievable narcissist, and incredibly amusing.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>130</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Closer Every Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A HOTEL RESTAURANT<br/>
EDINBURGH<br/>
JANUARY</p>
<p>The man lifts his glass, and takes a sip of red wine, his blue grey eyes emotionless, trained on the woman sitting across the table from him. "You will have the package ready for us - two weeks," he says gravely, his English heavily accented with Russian. "It will be off the books. We will call."</p>
<p>Eve looks back at him, and the wheels turn in her head. Off the books. It seems to be as Carolyn suspected... this organization is dirty. She tries not to let the realization show on her face. </p>
<p>Also damn. She hates when Carolyn is right.</p>
<p>"Two weeks from now?" After a moment she arranges her expression into one of gentle regret. "That's too soon, I think." She takes her fork and knife, and slices through the meat on her plate. "We may have to take a step back. Re negotiate."</p>
<p>A growl starts in the man's throat. Anger darkens his features and he slams his wine glass down too firmly, the liquid sloshing over the edge onto the tablecloth. "Unacceptable," he sputters. His voice is low but Eve watches a vein pulse in his temple, as if he were screaming. "If I had known what your people thought of as appropriate dealings we would have never agreed to meet - you will be sor - hey watch it!"</p>
<p>Midway through his whispered tirade, the waitress walking behind had bumped his elbow. The wine glass, already precariously placed on the table, tips first over the tablecloth and then onto the floor. "Oh god! I apologize, oh entirely my fault -," gasps the girl, her face instantly panicked. "Oh sir, let me help -" she grasps at a towel tucked into her apron, and leaps forward to sop up the liquid.</p>
<p>Eve sighs, disengaging a bit from the hectic scene before her and leaning back in her seat. She's actually still reeling at learning this particular Russian organization is dirty. Although she supposes she should be getting used to these surprises by now. An ultra secretive international mole hunt turns up a lot of them... </p>
<p>She watches distractedly as the angry man before her ends up using his own napkin to clean up most of the wine, and pushes the waitress away. "A vodka instead," he grunts at her. "Now go."</p>
<p>The girl sputters a chorus of more fervent apologies and backs away, disappearing to the kitchen. The Russian turns back to Eve, his expression even darker than before, if that were possible. "Your waitstaff and your offer are both insults to me," he spits. "Regardless of your insubordination, we will have our package in two weeks or-" he coughs suddenly, a funny expression on his face. His hand springs to his throat. "Or-" He tries to speak again, but there seems to be something wrong with his voice.</p>
<p>Eve frowns, leaning forward. "Mr Ivanov?" she says tentatively. "What is..?"</p>
<p>Before she can finish her sentence, the Russian's eyes are bulging unnaturally. He coughs again, and again, wheezing. And then blood tips from his lips, joining the red stain from the wine on the tablecloth.</p>
<p>With a last strangled cry, he pitches forward onto the table, dead.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>An hour later, a tired Eve opens the door to her hotel room, sighing. The authorities had arrived quickly, but she had been questioned for what seemed like an eternity. The quiet of the room is a welcome respite.</p>
<p>Well. It's quiet for a solid second, at least.</p>
<p>"OoOOooh," coos a smooth voice. "It is the criminal!" The voice comes from a figure sitting cross legged on the bed. A thick Russian accent offsets the whimsicality of the words.</p>
<p>Eve closes the door, and turns to raise an eyebrow at the figure. "I'm the criminal, hm? And what does that make you?"</p>
<p>Villanelle grins wickedly, still wearing a brunette wig with a white shirt and tie - the latter stained with red wine. "A waitress," she replies, matter of fact and with a definite sense of satisfaction. </p>
<p>Eve rolls her eyes but also chuckles under her breath. "Fair enough," she mutters, and heads over to the ensuite bathroom, kicking off her shoes with a groan. "Ugh, I need a job where I don't need to wear heels - ever."</p>
<p>Villanelle stares at Eve's retreating back, her features suddenly indignant as she realizes she is no longer the centre of Eve's attention. "Well?" she says expectedly, pushing herself off the bed, tugging off her wig in the process. "Did you see how I did it?" </p>
<p>The British agent shuts the bathroom door behind her, and so Villanelle leans a shoulder up against the frame outside and raises her voice to be heard. She folds her arms and calls at the door. "It was really good," she says loudly. She smiles to herself for a moment, re-living it.</p>
<p>A tap turns on and there's running water. "Thank you, Villanelle," comes Eve's muffled voice. "But I actually didn't see -"</p>
<p>"It was the towel," explains the assassin, still very loudly. She shifts to face the door and lifts her right arm to rest above her head on the frame, grinning. "I had poisoned powder in it that I made him inhale." Again, she smiles, and this time chuckles lightly at her own inventiveness. "I am very good," she says once more, in a fond tone.</p>
<p>The door opens and Eve is standing there, face washed and looking a lot more comfortable in an oversize shirt and pajama pants. She smiles at Villanelle, immediately taking in the extreme self satisfaction written all over the blonde's face. She tries very hard not to giggle at this and instead manages to nod genuinely at the young assassin. "Very clever," she acknowledges.</p>
<p>Villanelle waves a hand emphatically, as if finally receiving a long overdue response. "I know!" She moves away and throws herself back onto the bed. Facing Eve again, she glances over her briefly and then shakes her head at the pajama pants. "You know the dress you had on was very nice. You wore it for barely an hour."</p>
<p>Eve shrugs. "It was very nice - and very uncomfortable. I haven't thrown it out though, you'll be happy to know. The dress will live to see another mole hunting dinner, yet."</p>
<p>Villanelle laughs appreciatively at that. "Well, good." Her eyes trace Eve's movements, as the other woman walks across the room to join her on the bed, stopping to grab her phone from the nightstand. She taps at it absentmindedly, sitting cross legged. There's a moment or so of relative silence while Eve does this, before her eyes lift slowly from the screen and travel sideways over to look at Villanelle.</p>
<p>Who is just sitting there. Staring at her.</p>
<p>A moment more of silence. Then - </p>
<p>"I'm not going to have sex with you," says Eve, smiling.  </p>
<p>"Hah!" exclaims VIllanelle. She throws her head back in an exaggerated display of incredulousness. "Eve! Wow, I did not even mention sex, you have clearly your mind in the gutter." She chuckles and shakes her head, looking again into the still smiling face of the MI6 agent. "Clearly you have been lusting after me nearly all night."</p>
<p>Eve's face betrays only a slight hint of amusement. "Mhmm," she replies, and leans back against the headboard, stretching out her legs and returning her gaze to her phone. "Still really not going to have sex with you."</p>
<p>"Pfft," replies Villanelle, still shaking her head. As Eve doesn't respond further, the blonde pauses for a second. And then shifts her body to face Eve completely. "You know, Eve," she says, her tone matter of fact. "That I am very good at it."</p>
<p>Eve lifts an eyebrow without looking up. "Sex?" she asks.</p>
<p>"Yes."</p>
<p>"Ah."</p>
<p>Villanelle clicks her tongue against her teeth. "I am not so sure you really understand how good." Her tone is very casual, but there's something in it that makes Eve look up this time.</p>
<p>Their eyes meet. "Like good as in how you're good at secretly poisoning?" asks Eve.</p>
<p>Villanelle leans in just a bit, her gaze not wavering at all, her tone very level and somehow soft. "Better," she almost whispers.</p>
<p>Two seconds go by. Then three. Then - "Wow," breathes Eve, still staring into green eyes for a moment longer, before she shakes herself a little and leans back against the headboard, snapping out of it. "Oof. Wow. Okay, yeah, I get how the seduction part works for you." She shakes her head again, as if to dislodge the prolonged smoulder she was just privy to. "Damn. Do you practice that?"</p>
<p>The blonde's lips lift at the edges. "Maybe I am just very good at that too."</p>
<p>"Well kudos," acknowledges the agent, and she turns back to the screen of her phone. "That was really something." But then there is a flicker of a smile again. "However I really am not going to have sex with you."</p>
<p>Villanelle huffs a breath of air out with annoyance, as if she had just stepped in gum, or been asked to work the weekend. "Okay, Eve," she sighs, and tips herself off the bed. She straightens the tie she still wears, and grabs the brunette wig from a chair by the door. She tucks in into a shoulder bag she finds on the coat rack.</p>
<p>While she does this, Eve flicks through the phone, although she glances up as Villanelle slips on a pair of black boots. "You know the answer never changes, every time we do this?"</p>
<p>"Pfft," says Villanelle, and she finishes tying the laces of her second boot. She straightens up and grins at Eve. "Firstly, I don't recall asking, hm? You seem to just always have sex with me on the brain?"</p>
<p>"Well no, it's because you always get on the bed and stare at me like-"</p>
<p>"And!" Villanelle holds up a finger pointedly, and continues without acknowledging this last sentence. "You and I both know perfectly well, you get closer every time." Her white teeth flash in that grin. "Bye Eve."</p>
<p>The door opens, closes and she is gone. Eve snorts to herself quietly. "Closer every time..." she mutters, smiling.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>A HOTEL - PENTHOUSE<br/>
BRISTOL<br/>
APRIL</p>
<p>Villanelle stares into the mirror. In this hotel room, the whole wall is just a very big mirror. She leans a little closer to it. Looking. Examining. Her hair is tied up, not a strand out of place. She wears a white sweater, pressed pants. She runs a hand over them. Smooth - no wrinkles.</p>
<p>The light is not so bad, either. Villanelle focuses on her own nose, her mouth, her eyes. Her skin clear, her lips soft and perfectly curved, her eyes wide and bright. She tries to find a flaw.</p>
<p>Really, she does try. It just seems to be impossible.</p>
<p>The sound of the door opening - "Hello, Eve," says Villanelle, without looking away from her reflection. "You took a very long time with the police."</p>
<p>There is a sigh - Eve sounds exhausted. There is a soft thump of a purse being tossed to the floor. "They're so persistent. I suppose they are one hundred percent right in suspecting me, but it really somehow still seems excessive."</p>
<p>Villanelle frowns. She examines the crease in her forehead as it appears. "They are not right to suspect you," she says. "You did not kill him, I did."</p>
<p>Eve laughs now, softly. "Yes, but I asked you to, didn't I?"</p>
<p>"Hmm," replies the assassin. She tries to search into her own eyes, tries to uncover what might be in there somewhere. People are always saying the eyes are the windows to the soul. </p>
<p>"So!" says Eve, interrupting. "What on earth are you doing?"</p>
<p>Villanelle looks away from the mirror, turning around to face the other woman, who is observing her with a hand on her hip, dressed in a very nice dress, once again. "I was thinking," she replies.</p>
<p>Eve nods slowly, smiling that smile. "Thinking about... your own reflection."</p>
<p>Villanelle shrugs, and smiles right back. "Well Eve, I am very beautiful, you know."</p>
<p>For some reason, Eve laughs at that. She kicks off her shoes - heads straight to the bed and collapses down onto it. </p>
<p>"Why is that funny?" demands Villanelle. She walks the couple paces to the bed too, sits down next to where Eve is now lying on her back. "Do you not think that I'm beautiful?"</p>
<p>Eve has closed her eyes - perhaps she is tired. She laughs again a little. "Come on," she says quietly. "Of course I think you're beautiful, I'm not blind."</p>
<p>Villanelle clucks her tongue in approval of that. "So?"</p>
<p>Eve opens her eyes now, looks up into Villanelle's face. She has a strange expression - like she is trying to figure out a puzzle. "I just think that you're funny. I don't know."</p>
<p>"Hm." There is a bit of quiet in the room - the window blinds are open still, but the dusk is settling, and the light is fading. There's another lamp in the corner they should probably turn on. "So," says Villanelle. "You think I am beautiful, and funny."</p>
<p>Very slowly, a smile spreads over Eve's face. "I do."</p>
<p>"Oh?"</p>
<p>"Yes. And I'm definitely not going to have sex with you."</p>
<p>Villanelle raises a hand in disbelief. "Eve! That makes no sense."</p>
<p>Eve's chest moves up and down with her breath. "No?"</p>
<p>Leaning over her own crossed legs, Villanelle moves herself closer to Eve. She looks into brown eyes. "You know, you would really enjoy it, I think."</p>
<p>Eve hums softly, holding her gaze. "You think? And so, you're just trying to help me with my enjoyment, then?"</p>
<p>"I am very generous," replies Villanelle seriously.</p>
<p>Eve is smiling again. "Uh huh. So in summation of all this - you're very beautiful, funny and generous, and I would enjoy having sex with you."</p>
<p>Locking eyes with her still, Villanelle nods. "Yes, that is right."</p>
<p>The reply is just a whisper - it comes past those grinning lips, meeting the smile in her eyes. "Not going to happen."</p>
<p>And Villanelle laughs at this - "Ah, Eve," she says, getting up from the bed. She points a knowing finger at the agent. "You are getting closer. Do you notice?" When Eve doesn't respond, she just nods to herself. "Mhmm. Closer every time."</p>
<p>The hotel room clicks shut behind her as she leaves.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>RESTAURANT &amp; BAR<br/>
LONDON<br/>
AUGUST</p>
<p>Villanelle is not a drinker.</p>
<p>She is aware there is a heavy culture, in Russia, and really just in most places where there is crime and espionage - the drinking, the smoking. The detectives up late at the bar, the kingpins with their fancy crystal tumblers of whisky. A cigar hanging out the side of a mouth.</p>
<p>Liquor has always made Villanelle feel vaguely ill. And cigarettes taste like eating old newspaper. She has never had interest in either.</p>
<p>Her only weakness in that area - if there was one. Champagne. The expensive bottles, the tall glasses. The pop of the cork and the bubbles. Champagne signifies victory, strength, power - beauty. A perfect fit, reasons Villanelle.</p>
<p>She is at the bar this night, in London. Another hotel rendevous that Eve is making with a potentially dangerous foreign representative. MI6 has had her on this project for a while - and tonight it looks as though the 'license to kill' card is getting played once again by the British intelligence agent.</p>
<p>Eve is speaking to a tall man with jet black hair across the room. He says something to her, and in that moment she looks over the man's shoulder, into Villanelle's eyes. And gives an almost infinitesimal nod.</p>
<p>A waitress walks by Villanelle's shoulder, and she is struck by a desire. "A glass of champagne," she says to the woman, holding out her hand to stop her, an Oxford accent slipping easily from her lips.</p>
<p>Yes, thinks Villanelle as the waitress moves swiftly behind the bar. A glass of victory.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Awakening is painful. A determined pulsing of a headache beats against Villanelle's temple immediately as she stirs against a pillow. Blearily opening her eyes, the white of the sheets is too blinding and she shuts them again.</p>
<p>Two... maybe three glasses of champagne? Villanelle groans. "Next time," she mumbles aloud to herself. "Bubbly grape juice."</p>
<p>She remembers returning to the room after the job was done, as usual, and deciding perhaps to take a nap while waiting for Eve. She risks opening her eyes once more, and after some determined blinking, she realizes sunlight is streaming through the gaps in the closed curtains. Evidently, she had slept for quite longer than anticipated.</p>
<p>But where then, was Eve?</p>
<p>Rolling over to examine the room, she finds it empty, and no evidence of anyone else having slept in the bed with her. Frowning, her eyes move over to the bedside table - and there she sees a folded piece of paper, a scribbling of pen peaking out from under the edge.</p>
<p>Aha. She leans over to snatch the paper, holding it open to read Eve's handwriting.</p>
<p>"Sleeping Beauty,</p>
<p>I see you've had a good night! You looked so peaceful (which is so weird to see from you, by the way) and I didn't want to wake you up. Enjoy your sleep! I'm heading home, I live pretty close anyway.  </p>
<p>Eve</p>
<p>PS - Thanks for your help, as always<br/>
PPS - Oh and you know, this was actually finally the night I would have had sex with you! But you were asleep. Oh well! :)"</p>
<p>Villanelle finishes reading the note, eyes lingering on the smirky little happy face inked in the bottom corner. And placing the note back on the dresser, she rolls back over, sinking back into the sheets.</p>
<p>Eyes closed again, a grin plays at the edge of her lips. "I knew it," she whispers smugly.</p>
<p>***</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hope you all enjoyed! Please leave a comment and let me know what you think, so I, like my hero Villanelle, can be super self congratulatory with all praise and ignore all criticism completely.</p>
<p>:)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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